


Bearing Gifts

by wendymr



Series: Love Knows Not... [3]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:48:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendymr/pseuds/wendymr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You always do get one or two unexpected presents at a housewarming...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bearing Gifts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lindenharp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindenharp/gifts).



> For Lindenharp, who pleaded for the housewarming party following my multi-chapter fic Love Knows Not Its Own Depth. It's not essential to read that story before reading this, though one or two references may not make a lot of sense.

“You’re sure I shouldn’t run down to Oddbins for some more beer?” 

Robbie tuts. James is fretting, and it’s got nothing to do with whether they’ve got enough beer. It’s to do with the purpose of tonight’s party, and the fact that it’s their first official event as a couple – and that Jean Innocent’s coming. 

James is a very private person, and although Robbie knows that he’s not ashamed of their relationship, he’d have preferred to keep it low-key. And they are, for the most part – but Innocent didn’t exactly give them a choice about this. By demanding an invitation to a housewarming party they’d had no intention of holding, _and_ telling Laura Hobson, she’d effectively guaranteed that said party would happen, and barely three weeks after they moved in.

He slides his hand over James’s shoulder in a caress. “It’s a party, pet. We’re gonna end up with more alcohol than we know what to do with – not to mention surplus small appliances and ornaments.”

“True.” James moves closer to him, curving his body into Robbie’s. “Sorry. I’m over-thinking this.”

“You are, but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.” He reaches up and kisses James, slow and reassuring. “It’ll be fine. It’s not as if we had to invite half the station.”

Just their new team, the Chief Super, and a couple of other senior officers Robbie gets on well with – it won’t do any harm, he decided, to have them on side when their relationship becomes common knowledge around the station, as it’s bound to. And then James’s band-mates and a couple of long-standing friends of Robbie’s.

“Come on, Inspector,” he says after a moment. “You’ve still got that dip you said you were going to make, eh?”

James’s lips twitch faintly. “Your wish is my command, Detective Chief Inspector.”

The party’s actually a dual celebration; James’s promotion is official from Monday, as he’s just got back from the inspector’s course. Robbie’s been a DCI for two months now, but James had exams to pass before he could take the course – and, unsurprisingly, he studied for and passed OSPRE in record time. The new Unsolved Crimes Unit is up and running, and Robbie’s looking forward to having James back on the job with him.

“Avocado dip,” James says decisively, releasing Robbie. “And you were going to change that shirt, weren’t you?”

Robbie rolls his eyes. “Yes, dear.”

 

***

An hour later, Robbie smiles warmly at Chris Bennett as she hands over a six-pack of Abingdon Bridge and a gift-wrapped box that he’s pretty sure contains a cafetière. _Another_ cafetière, to add to the one James gave him months ago, and the one Gurdip and his girlfriend brought tonight.

“Good to see you, Chris – and this must be Pete?” He bends and brushes a kiss on his sergeant’s cheek, then extends a hand to the tall, burly man who couldn’t be anything other than a copper.

“Thanks for inviting us, sir. This is a lovely house.”

“Well, we just have the downstairs.” He waves vaguely around. “James was giving guided tours the last I saw – you might find him in the kitchen.”

Chris grins. “I’ll have to call him sir now too, won’t I?”

“Ah, that can probably wait until Monday. Pete, what can I get you to drink?”

The party’s in full swing, and James has actually managed to relax – the glass of wine Robbie made him drink before people started arriving did help, but what’s helped more is that their guests have been enthusiastic and complimentary about the flat, and taken the fact that a long-time married DCI and a newly-minted DI, both male, are an established couple completely in their stride. Yes, homophobia is alive and well in the British police forces – but they are two senior officers, with excellent reputations both individually and as a team, and they’re currently clear favourites with the Chief Super. Robbie had no concerns about how colleagues would treat them.

Speaking of the Chief Super, there’s been no sign of her yet – or of Laura Hobson. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jean Innocent didn’t come for some reason – there’s always some emergency or other, whether genuine or political, that can take her away from social activities. But Laura told him she’d arranged to be off-duty especially for tonight.

He’s mingling with the DCs from their team and a couple of DIs and their spouses in the living-room when James sticks his head in the doorway. “Robbie, more arrivals.”

Why does James need him? But he excuses himself, beer in hand, and goes out to the hall. James is taking coats from Innocent and Laura, who appear to have arrived together. Mr Innocent is clearly otherwise engaged yet again.

“Robbie!” Laura throws her arms around his neck, and he bends to kiss her. “I thought you might end up with too much beer and wine,” she says, handing over a bottle of rather fine single malt.

James leans over to take a look. “Oh, very nice. Laura, you may have anything you like to drink – just say the word.”

“And what do I get?” Jean Innocent asks, handing over a large bottle of limoncello.

“Whatever you wish, ma’am. I think we may have a bottle of rather excellent Burgundy breathing in the kitchen?”

“That sounds tempting, James – but before I let you pour me a glass, I think Laura and I should give you your housewarming present.”

“I thought this was it.” Robbie indicates the bottles he’s holding.

“Of course not,” Laura says briskly. “We thought that you and James deserved something a bit more long-lasting than a bottle of booze that’ll be gone by Christmas. Besides, a house isn’t a home without the patter of tiny feet.” She turns around and picks up a box Robbie hadn’t noticed before. It’s got a carrying handle and holes in it... and is it _squeaking_?

“What the hell’s in there?” James exclaims, and Robbie’s glad it’s his partner and not him asking that of their boss.

“There’s one for each of you,” Innocent says, and the smile she’s barely holding back has Robbie extremely suspicious. “Black and white – we’ve provisionally named them Lewis and Hathaway, but we won’t complain too much if you change that.”

“Not too much, no,” Laura concurs. “They’ve had all their jabs, you’ll be pleased to know, but they’re a bit young yet for neutering.” With a wicked grin, she mimes castration.

James visibly winces. Robbie almost snatches the box out of Innocent’s hand. “What are you talking about?”

“Kittens, Robbie. What did you think we meant?” Innocent’s grin is almost as wicked as Laura’s.

Robbie’s jaw drops. “Meow,” James says faintly, and reaches out for the cat-carrier.


End file.
